To Insanity And Back
by Hitoezakura
Summary: Yukishiro Enishi always appeared insane...but would we understand him better if we looked at his life from the beginning? A glimpse into the mind of a man who has been to insanity and back...
1. Prologue: In Rakuminmura

**Disclaimer - I am the proud owner of Rurouni Kenshin!**

**Enishi - Right, and I love my brother in law...**

**Hitoezakura - Fine, so I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. This series is the property of Watsuki, and I unfortunately, don't have a patent (or the talent to create such a series) on this series, so...there go my chances...**

**Anyways, I suppose I'm trying to kill myself here. I'm pressed for time, I have writer's block on my best story for the time being, and what do I do? I create a new story...I have the best solutions to my problems, don't I?**

**However, I have always wanted to dig deeper into the character of Yukishiro Enishi. He's intriguing, and unfortunately, he is always identified as the villain in most stories. In my honest opinion, his insanity is like Soujirou's, except Enishi's insanity ran deeper. Soujirou merely killed his family due to the intense dislike they shared for each other. Enishi however, saw his own sister killed, the very person who was like a mother and father to him, and he simply wanted revenge. But it always seems that Soujirou is loved, while poor Enishi's made into a villain.**

**So please read and review. It shall be a short story, but hopefully, it will be worth your time. And please review, because when I see many hits but few reviews, I feel disheartened...**

**Also, I recieved my Rurouni Kenshin translations from so please give credit to this site!**

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**TO INSANITY AND BACK**

**Prologue - In Rakuminmura**

The cold, harsh stone wall propped behind my back was perhaps the most uncomfortable structure designed in this world. The coolness seeped through my torn and tattered clothes, causing my blood-stained garments to crust over. I stared at the vibrant red fluid that originated from my own body, the blood that I intended for my brother-in-law to shed to achieve my Jinchuu. The Jinchuu that I had strived to achieve the past fifteen years, the very Jinchuu that my own dear sister refused to allow, the very Jinchuu that led me to this abominable place.

"Oh well, what the hell! Oh well, what the hell! Oh well-"

Unfortunately, this old man's singing was more abominable than my surroundings. I slumped against the wall, trying to hide both my internal pain and disgust, but once again, unfortunately, the man immediately strolled toward me.

"New here, eh, youngster? You know, I wonder if we haven't met before . . . Ho ho ho, must be my imagination!" chuckled the old man. I glanced up in order to inform him that I had never once seen him, but my one glance confirmed that indeed, the man and I had met somewhere, and he was familiar, but I could currently not remember who he was. I had an excess of time however, so I could utilize some time to spark my memory and rediscover who this man was.

"Maybe it's my imagination as well, but I feel like I've seen your face before as well" I replied rather listlessly. He grinned and started to walk away, looking over his shoulder so that his words could reach my numb ears.

"That's good, then. Both our minds are playing tricks on us. You must have lost something to look so broken down. But I don't need to hear about that. As long as you didn't throw it away, then just like him, you won't be one of those who lives in this dungheap. The time will come when you walk out of here again. Until then . . . I think it's some good fortune that led you to rest here a while."

He disappeared around the corner, whistling his annoying song once again. I slumped back against the wall and glanced down at the old, weather-beaten diary of my dear sister Tomoe, fingering it's tattered, ink-stained pages. I gingerly opened it to reread, like I had after Kaoru had kindly given it to me before I escaped from the police's custody, but this time, as my eyes scanned the first word, I delved into my own thoughts, my journey, and how the turn of events in my sister's life somehow intertwined with mine.

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**Like it?**

**Then please review!**


	2. Chapter One: Innocence

**Hitoezakura - I don't own Rurouni Kenshin...it's property of Watsuki (until I build my time machine, of course...)**

**Anyways, I can no longer give reviewer responses in my author's notes anymore, but I will be sure to reply to any reviewer who left a review and email address(except for my editor, who left a "Hi! It's me!" review and had not read this chapter since she didn't have the time).**

**Please give me feedback about this chapter, I really want to know if I am expressing Enishi correctly.**

**Anyways, each chapter is going to start with Tomoe's diary entry in italics, and then Enishi's thoughts. Each chapter will end with a small conversation between Oibore and Enishi (there's a reason for that...but I'm not going to disclose it...)**

**Happy reading, and happy thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates it!**_

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**TO INSANITY AND BACK**

**Chapter One - Innocence**

_The skies poured tears of agony, of pain, of deep regret, as we stood gathered at my mother's grave. She lay under that simple stone marker adorned with flowers I had plucked the day of her death as an offering to the Gods, begging them to spare her death. I pleaded them to allow her to live for the sake of my father and me, and if not for us, then for the young baby boy she had left behind, for her son, for my little brother. However, my pleas and prayers remained unanswered, and as I stared at the grave stone marker solemnly, a single tear slid down my cheek, mingling with the fresh cool rain. _

_My eyes traveled to my father who stood there, staring lifelessly at the grave of his beloved wife, his once cheerful and gentle eyes dead and dull. I could not see his tears, but I knew they existed within him. On the exterior, he seemed lifeless, emotionless, but in the interior, his tears filled his lungs and brain, snatching his life away from him, snatching his love away from this world._

_A shrill cry suddenly erupted through the air, and I turned to see my little brother reaching out of from the blankets underneath the umbrella, seated in the only area sheltered by the biting rain. His cries pierced my soul – he was calling out for a mother, a woman who no longer existed, a woman who could never enter his life again. I turned to father, begging him to reach out to his son, though the emotions never surfaced my face, a trait that I so dearly hated, but father weakly fell to his knees in front of my mother's grave and kneeled in front of the grave, his head in front of his hands and knees, his back a perfect arch. I stared at him for a moment, sensing his pain, but as I heard the shrill cries of my little brother call out repeatedly, I slowly lifted him and the umbrella from the ground, shading him and I from the biting rain. I gently rocked him, trying to ease his cries. For a moment, he stared up at me, his turquoise eyes shining with tears, memorizing my features. His tiny fingers reached out to snatch a handful of my hair in his fist before gently closing his eyes, leaning his head on my shoulder as he sighed softly and fell asleep._

_It was the first day I understood the gravity of his name, Enishi – connection, relation, affinity. He had no mother to cling to, and he therefore chose me that fateful day. He would discover someday that his birth ultimately led to the death of mother, despite the fact that it was not his fault…he would someday bear the guilt of her death, and desperately search for a love-filled connection so that he would obtain the love he so dearly wanted. And I would be there to offer him this love – that was the vow I took as a nine-year-old child that day. I would be his mother and his sister; I would shower him with the love he deserved until the day came when he would need my love no longer…

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Edo…my birthplace as well as the origination of the Yukishiro family, a middle class family who lacked extravagant living, but still managed to live through the years with smiles on their faces. The Yukishiro family was a rather simple family – my father, according to my sister Tomoe, was a kind and loving man, who knew nothing of scholarly and martial arts, but was still well-loved by our neighbors and family. My mother was always weak, but she maintained a sweet and good-natured disposition in order to maintain everyone's spirits. They gave birth to a daughter whom they christened Tomoe, and then, nine years later, they gave birth to their son – me.

However, mother's weakness finally destroyed her. My birth ended her life. Because of me, my sister was deprived of a mother, and was forced to grow up so quickly. Because of my birth…I was deprived of a mother's love. Perhaps that is why I clung to my dear sister so tightly – she was the closest thing to a mother's love, she was the closest I could get to family.

My father was deeply in love with my mother, as Tomoe had written in her diary, and upon her death, he became a lifeless shell. I know my sister constantly hoped that he would someday recover from his depressed stupor and realize that he still had children who needed his love, but he never seemed to glance our way. He instead spent his days in a dreary room where only darkness reigned, save for the shred of candlelight emanating from a single, thin, tapering candle. He bleakly stared at mother's silk kimonos, fingering them gently, as if by fingering them he could communicate with her. He was obsessed with my mother, constantly mumbling soft words of comfort to her, communicating with her in the quietest of whispers.

That is why I held on to Tomoe so dearly – my own birth had destroyed my own mother, the woman who would shower me with love if she were alive, and I never had a father. Tomoe always reprimanded me, always insisted that I was a harsh judge of character, and that if I opened my heart just a little more, I would be able to understand the behavior of other people. However, in this case, I truly do disagree. Could anyone admire the man who became a lifeless shell after his loved one's death, lost in depression of losing his loved in instead of caring for the two children he still had?

My first memory of Tomoe is a maternal memory. I believe I had just begun to crawl, and I had hit my head hard against a tall sakura tree. I was sobbing furiously when I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see a face devoid of emotion, the face of my sister, but when I stared into her eyes, I saw the emotions – I saw the love, the caring, the concern only a mother would show for her child. I saw that all in the eyes of a ten-year-old girl, one who gave up her childish dreams and fantasies to raise her little brother with as much love as she could shower on him. I stopped crying as she carefully lifted me and rocked me back and forth, the tiniest of smiles on her face, so tiny that perhaps it would've been invisible to someone else's eyes, but not to mine.

She never liked the fact that she could barely smile, barely convey her emotions to anyone, but I always made sure that she realized that I understood her. She showered me with love, and in return, I always showed her that I understood her emotions that I knew when she wanted to smile, wanted to speak sternly, and wanted to cry.

However, that did not always mean I agree with her emotions. Now, in all honesty, I was a bit of a brat, because I did throw quite a few tantrums, some of which upset my sister dearly. However, perhaps my most severe tantrum thrown was when I was eight. Tomoe had just turned seventeen, and a proposal from the family Kiyosato had arrived…

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"Hello youngster!"

I quickly snapped the diary shut and hid it behind my back as the annoying old man everyone called Oibore arrived and sat by my side, bringing with him a whole flock of birds. I could only wonder why the birds did not fly away; his singing and constant cheerfulness was quite awful. I did not answer, hoping that Oibore would understand that I did not want to talk today. Unfortunately, I am not that lucky.

The birds immediately flocked over me, settling down next to my feet or creating a comfortable perch in my head. At that moment, I was just too tired to bat them away, so I simply let them perch.

"You're a good guy."

I turned to Oibore, staring at him incredulously. I may have appeared villainous to the residents of Tokyo and Kamiya dojo, but I was no villain. I had only undertaken Jinchuu as a revenge plot for my dear sister. However, despite the fact I was a villain, I could assure you that I was no saint either. Certainly, my past actions have proved that.

Oibore laughed looking at my surprised expression, but then he indicated the birds that hovered around me, for my head turn had jilted many of them, and they were impatiently waiting for me to remain still so that they could recreate their perches.

"The birds know a good soul when they see one" replied Oibore matter-of-factly, raising his hand, allowing a bird to perch on it. "They only flock around those who they know are repenting for any wrongs they have ever committed, those who are trying to purify their heart, and those who are accepting their deeds…"

"Oh" I replied emptily, slumping against the wall once again. I longed for my wonderful shades, but unfortunately, Battousai destroyed them in our last battle, and I had no money to purchase a pair. In addition, the Tokyo police were probably on a lookout for me. After all, I had escaped from their very clutches.

"I know you'll be out of here someday," replied Oibore with a grin. "Just like the other guy…you won't throw away everything just because you lost someone…"

"Why are you here?" I asked, sounding rude of course, and interrupting the man's thoughts, but he simply smiled sadly and sighed.

"I lost a family because I mourned the loss of a loved one…" he replied quietly, staring out into the sunset. My one loss destroyed the whole family…and all because I didn't have the strength to pull them back together…"

"Then why don't you go and reunite your family?" I asked curiously. He looked broken inside all of a sudden, and I knew that he must have loved his family and his lost one dearly, but it perplexed me that he had done nothing about it. When I lost Tomoe, I thirsted for Battousai's suffering, and toiled to make my dream of revenge come true…but this man…

He chuckled slightly. "You're a strong and stubborn boy…just like my son was…but as for reuniting my family, I cannot…My wife was the one who died all those years ago, my daughter is now dead, and only Kami knows where my son is…"

"So look for your son," I suggested quietly. I know I ran around all of Kyoto, asking anybody if they knew where my dear sister was. I was so desperate at that moment…but I so dearly wanted to bring her back home…

"My son will never come back," replied the man with a sigh, rising from my side heavily. "Perhaps you know as well as I that old wounds never disappear…and he will never forgive me..."

He suddenly smiled, as if he had forgotten about the whole incident in a single second. "Anyways, it's time for the stars to light up. Sleep as well as you can in this dump, and have fun mulling over any thoughts!"

He disappeared from my view, whistling his annoying song once again. However, for a moment, I overlooked my annoyance and stared into the distance. He had lost everything…that was his whole reason for sitting in Rakuminmura…I had lost everything, which was why I was residing in this dump currently…he and I shared some similarities after all, and for some reason, he looked vaguely familiar…

With a shrug, I closed my eyes, clutching Tomoe's diary in my hands, ready to sleep for the night, hoping to see the smile of my dear sister in my dreams.

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**Please review, and offer feedback! I want to know if I'm doing this well, because Enishi deserves plenty of respect and understanding!**

**Ja ne, and hopefully I can update soon!**


	3. Chapter Two: Happiness And Loathing

**Disclaimer - Guess what? Watsuki's just a pen name! I'm the real creator of Rurouni Kenshin!  
Enishi - Give me a break! Tomoe was an Ayanami look-alike, and you didn't even know about Neo Genesis Evangelion until a year ago!  
Hitoezakura - Fine, I don't own Rurouni Kenshin! There's really no need to burst my bubble!**

**Anyways, since it was Thanksgiving, I had nothing better to do than update...well actually, I was slacking off on my homework so I had plenty of time to update, which means tonight, I'll be staying up till 2:00 or 3:00...oh well...**

**Anyways, I only got one review last chapter, which makes me want to cry...I can't really tell how many people actually like this story (although charmedsword, thanks for reviewing both chapters!), and I really do hope to hear more from readers...**

**Alright, here's the next chapter, so happy reading!**

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**TO INSANITY AND BACK**

**Chapter Two - Happiness And Loathing

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_I have never been able to smile as much as I wish to, but today, I truly cannot express my happiness with a simple smile, and although I attempt to pen my happiness in this diary of mine, I will never be able to convey the extent my delight through words. Today, my heart knows no bounds; it is bursting with excitement and bliss. Today, my father finally seemed to regain a bit of his life. I finally found a spark of happiness in his previously dull and saddened eyes. _

_Today was the day that the Kiyosato Akira chose me._

_I have known him since I was a mere child. He was the boy who never seemed deterred by my coldness, but instead spoke to me despite my lackluster face. He walked me home on multiple occasions, and accompanied me to the marketplace numerous times, since I was always afraid of Enishi throwing a tantrum or becoming overly protective if the soldiers came walking into our village. For the first time in my life, I suddenly wished to leave my home, suddenly wished to explore the world with Akira by my side. The feeling was exhilarating, it was liberating, it was fanatic and ecstatic…yet I could never express these feelings through a mere smile…but I hope that will not matter to Akira. Akira is a hardworking, honest, and simple man. I could not ask for more in the man I wish to spend my life with forever. I love him dearly, and I pray that he will be able to understand and realize the magnitude of my love, despite the lack of emotions that spread across my face..._

_However, there is one person who dampens my excitement. I know it is not intentional, but still, it does hurt me that he cannot accept my love for Akira. That person is my dear little brother Enishi. The gravity of his name strikes me once again as he sits in the small room next to mine, throwing yet another tantrum. As he grew to become a young boy, our connection and relation grew deeper. He not only thought of me as a sister, but as a mother…I had become both mother and sister to him, and to leave him now was heart wrenching for me. He is my little brother…he is the world to me, and I am the world to him, for father has never left his depressed stupor ever since the day of my mother's death. But now, the connection has grown so deep that he does not wish to release me…and I suppose he feels like he has no one else. We have no other family, and poor father seems so lifeless, despite the fact that he managed to muster the energy to help arrange my marriage. However, I hope that someday soon, Enishi will understand exactly how powerful my love for Akira is. One day, he shall realize how love can open the heart and heal the wounds inside, fill the loneliness and emptiness inside the heart, and liberate the soul, sending it into an unknown world of excitement and bliss…_

_And perhaps someday, he will be able to accept my love for Akira, and will cease from throwing tantrums…I pray to the Gods that he will soon gain an understanding about how I truly feel about Akira…

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Kiyosato Akira…that name makes my blood boil. I was furious with the man, although that fury would seem like a mere sliver compared to the fury I had towards Battousai. At least Kiyosato was not a murderer. However, now that I assess the situation, he indirectly caused my dear sister's death, ultimately destroying my only family. He had stolen my sister's heart, pulling her away from me, leaving me with only a lifeless father, and then, a year later, he left her, assuming that she was not happy with him, when in all honesty, she loved him with all her soul, and did not care about his accomplishments. Had he not left my dear sister by misinterpreting her feelings and immediately deciding to prove himself by entering the war, Battousai would have never murdered him, and she never would have gone to Kyoto and met her death there. Then again, Akira was not the one who sliced through my sister in the swipe of the sword. I will never forgive Battousai for murdering my sister, but I have come to accept that she did not blame him for this heinous crime. It was an accident to the world, but to me, it shall always remain a crime, and I will never forgive Battousai, though I shall never pursue him and my revenge again. Perhaps many will never understand my feelings, but they were never in my situation, so I frankly do not care about their opinions. They will never share bonds as deep as the one Tomoe and I shared.

My dear sister, as I mentioned before, was both my mother and sister to me, and due to our father's depression, my only family. I began to grow attached to her as the guilt for causing my mother's death grew and as Tomoe showered her motherly and sisterly affections. As the attachment grew, so did my anger and jealousy. Edo women began to talk to my father, insisting that he arrange Tomoe's marriage quickly, but my father would simply ignore them, lost in his stupor of depression. For the first time, I finally felt my father was useful, and I was thankful that his depression kept him from separating my dear sister and me. I had no intention whatsoever of sacrificing our relationship for any other man, and as my love for Tomoe grew, my jealousy grew, and soon, I threw tantrums as soon as I felt like my sister was drifting away from me. Thankfully, my father was too lifeless to think about the welfare of his children.

However, my world came crashing down when I was eight. My father, who was wallowing in depression, suddenly gained the energy to arrange my sister's engagement with a man named Kiyosato Akira. Tomoe quietly told me that Kiyosato was not a bad man at all – he was the second son of a simple family similar to ours, and although he was not accomplished, he was honest and hardworking. However, I would hear nothing of it. I threw a tantrum, and I know it was childish, but at that time, I had no other method of pulling her away from this engagement; I was only a mere eight-year-old child. Tomoe reprimanded me in her quiet, softly cold voice, declaring this tantrum my worst tantrum ever, but I still would not accept the fact that my sister would be leaving me forever.

For days, I wallowed in my fury, screaming at the Gods above, asking them how they could possibly take my only family away from me? I began to loathe my father for even suggesting Tomoe and Kiyosato's arrangement. The man had sat around for years, lost in his thoughts of a dead woman who could never be brought back to life, lost in his depression, and suddenly, he wanted to get rid of his only daughter? He wanted the one motherly and sisterly figure in my life to marry someone else? Did he want to ruin my life by destroying the only family I had? I cursed my father and the Gods endlessly for this new turn of events, and I began to make my plans to end this relationship forever.

However, as I continued to watch over my sister and Kiyosato, I suddenly realized that my dear sister was in love with him. Usually, people mark my sister as cold and emotionless, which is not true at all. She just is not able to smile as much as she wants to. However, she made more efforts to smile than I had ever seen her try to make. She used to smile only for me, but now…now she was trying to smile for him. She truly loved him, and she was truly happy that he had chosen her as his soul mate. She could never express her feelings in words or a smile, but I knew my sister the best, and I could understand the happiness in her heart. With a heavy heart, I accepted this fate, and my tantrums decreased as I watched my dear sister grow happier and happier by the day.

She still barely smiled at him though, since bringing a smile on her face was extremely difficult, and I of course, gloated, thrilled with my glory over Akira. Tomoe has always been able to smile at me, has always been able to express herself to me, and I took pride in the fact that Tomoe bestowed smiles upon me that she could barely gift to anyone else. I knew deep in my heart that I would be the only one to see the unguarded Tomoe, the one who could smile freely, and I was thrilled that I was the only one who would ever receive every ounce of Tomoe's love. Perhaps that was why my tantrums slowly ceded – not only was I beginning to accept that Tomoe loved Kiyosato and would be desolate without him, but I also realized that she would never be able to gift him with the smiles that I received so freely. I had the one piece of her heart that no one could take away from me, not even Kiyosato Akira.

However, then the day came where I lost that piece of her heart, and ultimately lost her forever…

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"Reading that diary again, eh youngster?"

I sighed exasperatedly and shut the diary to see Oibore standing in front of me, once again flocked by multiple birds. Thankfully, the birds seemed to be preoccupied with him to notice me, and I therefore did not have to endure becoming a perch for some annoying birds.

"It must be really important to you, huh?" murmured Oibore, leaning against the wall and sliding down next to me, much to my dismay.

"I don't really want to talk about it," I muttered. Although I had been musing about Oibore's similarities to me the day before, I still did not intend to share the tragedy of my sister's death to him. It still enraged me that although I had known Tomoe for all of my life, I was unable to understand her, while Battousai managed to understand her completely, and managed to obtain the smile I had so dearly wished for all of my life. However, perhaps resentment ran stronger through my veins than anger, resentment that I had not understood Tomoe…

"You look pretty down," said Oibore with a chuckle. "You lost someone just like I have, huh?"

I nodded, slightly surprised that he had actually correctly deciphered the cause of my depression without my having to tell him. Then again, maybe he sensed the similarities between us too.

"Has that person's ghost visited you recently?" asked Oibore.

"What?" I asked, almost deeming the man insane. I believe in ghosts; I saw Tomoe by my side all the time, but in all honesty, would any ghost want to visit this dump?

"There are rumors that when you have lost someone, the moment you find yourself on the right track, you'll once again see the ghost of the person you have lost, smiling down at you, ready to help and guide you through life…" murmured Oibore with a small chuckle. "But I guess you haven't seen the ghost yet, huh?"

I shook my head. I had not seen Tomoe once ever since I stepped into Rakuminmura. I longed to see my sister smile at me, longed to see her serene face in front of me, gently guiding me to the right way in life, but she never appeared. It wrenched my heart to never see her after she had stood by my side throughout Jinchuu frowning, because I so desperately wanted to see her smile at me again. She had spent all of Jinchuu reprimanding me with her simple frown, and I wanted her smile, wanted her love, wanted her motherly affections once again. And the last few nights, I had woken up with nightmares that she had given up on me forever, that she had abandoned me due to her disappointment in me.

I guess my eyes betrayed my emotions (it was at times like these I adored my shades; no one could read my eyes behind the dark shades) because Oibore placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry…" he murmured. "Sometimes, it always seems like we are never doing the right things. It has been thirteen years since I have resided in this dump, and not once have I seen the ghost of my daughter, or my son, if he is dead, or even that of my wife, who I lost long before my children. Thirteen years have gone by, and not once have either of them come to visit me, but I no longer have the strength or the intelligence to determine what it is I must do to make them happy."

The birds chirped softly and flew away, leaving us alone in silence for a few minutes. Neither of us could speak. Neither one of us was happy with our lives because neither one of us could see the ghosts of the ones we loved and lost…

Oibore sighed and rose from the ground before patting my shoulder once again and speaking.

"However, I have no doubt that you will one day see the ghost of your lost one…who did you lose?"

Before I could stop myself, I answered "My sister." I was surprised that I had told this man, this stranger, this man of unknown origins my reason for suffering, but as I said, I suppose our similarities brought us together.

He chuckled softly. "Well then, I'm sure that your sister will come back to you someday. No doubt that she's proud of you for trying to push through life, but I'm sure that her pride will know no bounds once you discover how to find happiness in your life, until you discover what it is that is troubling you and why, and that day, she shall return to you with a smile…"

He walked away, leaving me propped against the wall, clutching my sister's diary. He always walked away before I could say something, but today, I had nothing to say to him. What could I possibly say? Could I ensure him that his loved ones would return to him after he had not seen them for thirteen years? I had no reassurances, no words of comfort, and I would not falsely claim anything.

Because even though his claim about Tomoe returning seemed genuine, I no longer knew whether Tomoe would ever return to me, whether she would ever come to forgive me again. All I could do was read her diary and sort my thoughts before trying to understand her own thoughts, before trying to discover why our lives took such a turn…

The sun fell below the horizon, dispelling the light that had filled the sky and filling the void with inky darkness. I shut the diary and stared up at the black abyss before my eyes finally shut, the darkness of sleep enveloping me.

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**Alright, I'm getting very into this story...so please review and give me feedback! I really am working hard on this story, and I would love to hear from some readers!**

**Ja ne for now!**


	4. Chapter Three: Destroyed Happiness

**Disclaimer - Embrace me! I am the owner of Rurouni Kenshin!  
Enishi - Yes, and I love the Battousai!  
Hitoezakura - Do you have to be so sarcastic?  
Enishi - Do you have to be stupid?**

**Hitoezakura - I don't own Kenshin...happy Enishi? Watsuki's the rightful owner.**

**I'M SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY!**

**I haven't updated for three months now! Please forgive me! My life has become scholarships, projects, tests, assignments, competitions, and conferences, and I've finally found a bit of time to relax!**

**Anyways, this chapter was so difficult for me! I felt like I couldn't capture Tomoe's emotions well enough. I think I did okay, but you'll be the judge of that. In addition, Oibore and Enishi's conversation takes a new turn, and I'm waiting for feedback on that too. So any readers, please respond to this chapter, for my sake!**

**Read onwards!**

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**TO INSANITY AND BACK**

**Chapter Three - Destroyed Happiness

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_The first year of Genji, April 4, 1864…this day shall forever remain etched deeply in my thoughts, into my heart, into my soul; into my rare smiles,…my hand is shaking so hard, I can hardly write. My usually graceful script suddenly seems like that of a child just learning his new brush strokes, jilted and forced, as if I cannot bear to write these words. The tears cannot flow, but I feel the grief…_

_Was this how father felt after losing mother?_

_This is how I feel today…today I received the news that Kiyosato Akira is no longer a part of this world. He has received Heaven's Justice from the Ishin Shishi, brutally maimed and murdered by the shadow assassin. Instead of sparing me the details of his death, the telegram graphically described the death of my fiancé. A painful blow to his chest, a sword through his throat, a beautiful red flower clasped in his fist…everything described in that mere telegram was vivid in my mind…_

_A beautiful red flower…his first gift to me was a bouquet of fragrant scarlet blooms…scarlet blooms that died the day he did, wilting away under my negligent care…_

_Scarlet…the color of the blood that was spilled that night…_

_No matter what I say, no matter what I do, I cannot help but think of his death. The shadows haunt me, taunt me, and claim that he is now theirs. The bright skies suddenly turned gray, depriving me of warmth, the very warmth he brought to me during all those days we shared together. The beautiful flowers have suddenly stopped blooming, marking the death of my happiness, marking the death of him…_

_And it is all my fault…it is all my fault…it is all my fault…_

_Akira is dead, and I am responsible for his death…_

_The world has suddenly become so cold, so dark, and so lonely. Enishi still stands by my side, begging me to eat, hugging me desperately, trying to bring my smiles back, the smiles I once bestowed upon him so lovingly. However, Enishi's childish coaxing only reminds me of how Akira desperately tried to see my smiles…it only reminds me that my lackluster face is the reason he went to war… "If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will at least be known as a warrior of repute," he had said with a gentle smile, waving to me as he left with his comrades._

_If only I had cried out to him, begged him to stay, pleaded him to stay, told him that I was truly happy to receive his love, that I needed nothing else but his love, he would've stayed. I never wanted him to enter the war, but my lackluster face could reveal nothing. I could not utter a word as he disappeared from my sight. I stood there helplessly, his delicate hairpin tucked into my hair, and holding a plant adorned with scarlet blossoms, the same scarlet blossoms that adorned his body…the same color as the scarlet blood that stained the ground beneath him…_

_I cannot eat, no matter how much Enishi persuades me; it hurts too much to swallow…I cannot sleep, Akira's face haunts my dreams, seeking me behind my eyelids…I cannot step outside again, the world I once wanted to explore with Akira is no longer the same, it has become dark and cold, eerie and lonely, and I can no longer view it with my once innocent eyes…the world has lost the energy, the energy I depended on…the world has lost Akira…_

_All I can do is lament the fate that has been bestowed upon me, upon us, upon our love, as I stare at the hairpin nestled in my hand, my last memory of Akira, the only trace of him that remains above the soft soil of the ground that he was buried in…_

_The world has changed, and so have I…I cannot step into the light and feel the joy and exhilaration I once felt…I can only sit in my dark room, illuminated only by a single candle, ignoring the childish pleas of my younger brother, ignoring the deep, sorrowful tone of my father, ignoring everything but the memories I once had…

* * *

_

April 4th, 1864 – I had not anticipated the events that were to occur on this day, not at all. I had wished for Akira to disappear, and I received my wish. I was truly ecstatic that the one barrier between Tomoe's love and I had finally been destroyed, but it came at a price that I was unwilling to pay – Tomoe's smiles. Smiles that she bestowed upon me often, smiles that she could barely form for Akira, smiles that were worth more to me than all the treasures of the world.

I don't regret Akira's death, not at all. It may sound harsh to you, but in all honesty, I hated the man. I accepted him simply for the sake of Tomoe's happiness, and now that he was dead, I was no longer concerned with him. He meant nothing to me, and therefore he did not need my sympathy or concern. However, he meant the world for Tomoe, because in a mere instant, she became a shell of a woman. She sat in her room, staring at a hairpin that Akira gave her as a parting gift and a dead plant, its once scarlet blossoms now shriveled and brown. Nothing I said or did or felt brought her back to me, and my frustration started to know no bounds as every single one of my efforts to make her smile turned to dust, ineffective and worthless.

I could not understand why my sister would become so depressed upon the death of a man who could not even understand the workings of her mind. He immediately assumed that her silence meant she was unpleased, not even opening his mind for a mere second to see that try as she might, Tomoe could barely smile. In my opinion, a man who could not understand my sister is filth, filth that deserves to be crushed underfoot and thrown into the sea so that it may never return to land. I received this wish – Akira was found on the ground, drenched in a pool of his own blood, drenched in the dark scarlet liquid, enhancing my triumph. However, how could it possibly be a victory if I lost my sister to it?

Those cursed words, those stupid, unnecessary, ignorant words. "If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will at least be known as a warrior of repute." Never in my entire life had I heard words so ignorant, so idiotic, and so pathetic. Akira did not deserve her love – he had failed to understand her despite her lack of emotion. His love for her was not as strong or understanding as mine, and he therefore had no right to love her. Time and time again I repeated these words to my depressed sister, insisting that she was better off without that pathetic fool, but she would simply close her eyes, as if she was blocking out my words, ignoring me. I tried to convince her that he brought his own death upon himself by actually thinking that he had to join the war to please her, but that still did not ease her from her pain, pain caused by Akira, pain caused by her own father, the man who had initiated this relationship in the first place.

I hated him more than ever. I was not related to him any longer. He was weak, pathetic, depressing, and now he was guilty of destroying Tomoe's happiness by creating a relationship with filth for her. Both he and Akira were to blame, and I knew I would never forgive either one of them. Neither one of them deserved my forgiveness or my respect.

However, they did not deserve Tomoe's compassion either! Why did she offer it to them so willingly? Why did she torture herself over Akira's death? Why did she truly love him, despite the fact that he was unable to understand her? What drew her to that piece of filth that did not deserve her love? Questions swirled about in my mind, but when I inquired, I received a mere sob, and my concern would ignite into rage against both men.

However, that still did not change the fact that Tomoe was dying inside, and thus, the day of my victory became the day of my downfall as well. I was starting to lose Tomoe to the ghosts that haunted her minds, to the shadows that lingered in her room, depriving her of the light of the candle and the warmth of the sun. Akira's death ate her away inside, and I stood there, unable to do anything, my helplessness and inability to help Tomoe forget about Akira eating me away inside.

Neither she nor I deserved this torment, and eventually, the torment led her to the roads of Kyoto, roads that led her away from me forever…

"New revelations about your sister, hmmm?"

* * *

I snapped the diary shut to avoid Oibore's eyes from scanning the pages of my sister's heart. I had no intent of sharing the torment she and I suffered through all those years ago, nor did I have the intention to share my current feelings. Whenever I thought about Tomoe's misery over Akira, my anger seemed to intensify. I could never understand why Tomoe loved a man who misunderstood her so greatly, a man who could offer her nothing, and this lack of understanding enraged me. I thought I always knew my sister, but ever since the end of Jinchuu and this diary, I was starting to feel alone, starting to lose the bond I had shared with my sister, starting to lose her ghost to the shadows that surrounded and choked me with its dark tendrils.

"Go away" I muttered angrily, thoroughly enraged and perfectly content to wallow in my misery. "Leave me alone."

Much to my discontent, Oibore calmly sat down next to me, despite the fact that the glare I directed towards him was full of fury and annoyance. I seriously wondered whether he needed his prescription checked, or whether he was just too ignorant to see that I was seriously livid with his actions.

I heard a flutter of wings, and slowly watched as a few birds floated down from their high perches to join Oibore. Thankfully, they kept their distance from me, but that still did not make them any less annoying.

"You're thoroughly incensed today," observed Oibore, fingering the birds softly. Seeing as I no longer had my beloved shades, any idiot could have seen that was angry.

"You're a perceptive man, aren't you?" I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes in annoyance. Oibore laughed and nudged the birds away from him, as if he wanted to keep the conversation private. Seeing as birds cannot really communicate to humans and would never be able to convey the content of this conversation to anyone, I though that was a rather stupid action on his behalf, but I was also quite thankful that the birds were finally gone.

"I suppose anyone can see you are angry," replied Oibore with a chuckle. "That's why no one offered you dinner today; they were all too scared because you had this expression of fury etched in your face. However, no one seems to know the reason why. That's what I was trying to determine."

"And what makes you think that you deserve to know why I'm angry?" I snapped angrily, slamming the diary onto the ground. "What makes you think that I will tell you everything that has happened to me, why I sit her, mourning my sister's death, why I'm sitting in this dump of a home?"

"Because keeping your anger within yourself is quite unhealthy. You need to vent your emotions", answered Oibore quietly. I was on the verge of strangling him at that point, and I finally lost my temper.

"You think I need to vent my emotions?" I yelled furiously. "That will never help! Those three bastards did not deserve the love she gave them! None of them deserved her compassion, yet she gave it to them! They tortured her so much, yet she smiled for all of them! Those bastards don't deserve that from her!"

"Don't you think that those three feel the same way?" asked Oibore curiously. I was about to reply when I realized that I was quite confused and did not really understand the question he had posed upon me.

"I don't understand," I muttered in annoyance. "What do you mean?"

"I lost my daughter years ago, about thirteen years ago," murmured Oibore sadly. "She was a beautiful girl, and in any other family, she would have become even more beautiful as she grew older and older. However, her beauty was marred because she was born to me. She became a mother to my son while I wallowed in my misery of losing my wife. Six or seven years later, the fiancé I had brought to her died. I was still so lost in the misery of losing my wife that I did not think about the fact that she was in the same situation that I was in. I never outstretched my hand to comfort her, never stroked her hair, and never wiped away her tears. A few days later, she disappeared from my life, and a year later, I discovered that she had died a violent death, but with a smile on her lips. The same smile that she offered to me so freely as a child, the smiles she bestowed upon me when I smiled back at her. However, all those years, I left her in agony and suffering...I did not pay attention to her emotions or to her. Nevertheless, she still gifted me with her smiles and compassion."

"What are you trying to say?" I muttered, quite annoyed that he was going on about wallowing in misery. That just reminded me too much of my father, the weak, pathetic man sitting in that dark room all those years, never once concerned with his daughter or son, only bestowing upon them agony and suffering.

"I gave her all that pain, all that suffering, yet she smiled at me…" murmured Oibore. "Her compassion ate away at my heart, leaving me with the fresh pain of guilt. You say those three men did not deserve her compassion, that they tortured her. Yet you don't see that perhaps they feel just as guilty as me, perhaps they too, realize that they didn't deserve her compassion."

"I don't care" I insisted angrily, starting to dislike the fact that this man was acting so pathetic, so weak, and so idiotic. "If they knew they didn't deserve her compassion, then they shouldn't have accepted it! By accepting it, they destroyed her! Now leave so that I can sleep in peace!"

Oibore calmly rose from his position just as I lay down on the rather uncomfortable ground, stretched out and prepared to sleep. Just as I had shut my eyes, I heard a hoarse whisper from my companion above.

"By accepting her compassion, they destroyed her, eh? However, if they had not accepted it…then what would happen to her? Did you ever think about her boy? Imagine what would happen if you had offered compassion to her, and she rejected it? Would you not feel like dying? So perhaps by accepted her love, they managed to help her, no matter how brief their time with her was…"

He walked away quietly, leaving me alone with my thoughts. His words echoed in my ears, haunted my soul.

The truth was, during Jinchuu, I had offered Tomoe love, sacrifice, everything I had within me. Yet I was only greeted with her frowns…and that ate away at me inside…

Was that what the old man was talking about?

With a sigh, I shifted in sleep to stare at the skies. It was a cloudless night, yet clouds of confusion seemed to mar my mind and disturb my sleep. I stayed awake all night, staring at the stars, desperately hoping to see her smile among those stars like she had before.

She never did.

And it tortured me inside that my compassion was not enough to bring a smile upon her face…it was not enough.

When was this penance going to end? When was she going to return to me? When was she going to smile like she had all those times?

She had accepted all three of the men in her life that had tortured and pained her soul – she accepted our father, Akira, and Battousai. But why was she not accepting me, the one person who never ever wished to see her in pain, and the one person who never caused her such agony?

I tossed and turned all night, the questions in my mind haunting me as I desperately searched for answers.

* * *

**Please please please review! I could really use your feedback on this chapter, and I would love to hear from all of you!**

**Until next time, Ja ne!**


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